


Sparks

by Emospritelet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle and Rumple adopt a baby dragon, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold in the Dark Castle, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13850445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: Belle and Rumple are blissfully happy together in the Dark Castle.  When Rumple is next called away on a deal, Belle goes with him, and there is an unexpected addition to their household.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tis The Season](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922485) by [Emospritelet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet). 



> This follows on from the Dark Castle Rumbelle ficlets I wrote in Tis The Season. Those ficlets were published as a single fic on tumblr with the title Midwinter's Kiss. I then wrote a follow-up ficlet on tumblr and got some asks relating to it. This little fic is where I fill them.
> 
> And yes, there will be smut.

Winters in the mountains where the Dark Castle sat were long and harsh, and it was with some relief that Belle greeted the spring sunshine.  The castle itself was always warm, but it still felt good to open up the curtains and let in the sunlight after several months of short days and snowstorms.  The snow was now melting, the plants starting to poke through, and she was looking forward to getting out into the fresh air.  Particularly as Rumple had promised to take her with him on the next deal he made.

Since their Midwinter visit to Arendelle and their unexpected and (in her opinion) long overdue declarations of love and the consummation of the same, Belle found herself blissfully happy.  She was aware that the news of her relationship with the Dark One had spread far and wide, and she had subsequently received letters from her father.  The first expressed shock and outrage, and demanded to know whether she wished him to rescue her, in which case he was prepared to seek assistance from the Evil Queen, of all people.  When she replied to tell him that she loved Rumplestiltskin and was perfectly content, he sent a second letter threatening to disown her.  She had wept over that one, but had held firm, and eventually her father had grudgingly informed her that although he neither liked nor accepted her choice, she would always be free to come home.

Belle no longer considered the Marchlands to be home.  The Dark Castle was her home now.  Her love had wrought a change in Rumplestiltskin; he was no longer brooding and snappish, and there was a softness to him, a lightness.  He even opened up to her about the son he had lost, and his plans to reunite with him.  Until that could happen, however, there were deals to be made.

* * *

On a crisp day in early spring, her attention was pulled away from her book by Rumplestiltskin entering the library, boot-heels clicking on the wooden floor.  He was dressed in his usual leather pants and silk shirt, but he had a dragon-hide coat over the top, which she recognised as one of his favourite deal-making outfits.  She slipped a bookmark in between the pages and laid her book aside.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, and he sniffed, adjusting his cuffs.

“Someone in the village near the Crystal Caves has called on me,” he said, and put his head to the side.  “Would you like to come?”

Belle beamed at him, getting up and smoothing her skirt with her hands.

“I’d love to!” she said excitedly.  “We haven’t been on a journey since Arendelle!”

“Hmm, and we know how that turned out,” he said dryly.  “Am I going to find myself at the mercy of your nocturnal appetites once more?”

She shot him a level look.

“Right, because that was _all_ me,” she remarked.  “You weren’t responsible for any of it.”

“Ah, so you remember it as I do.”  His eyes twinkled at her.  “How fortunate.”

She swatted his arm as she passed him.

“I’m going to get my cloak,” she said.  “And you’d better prepare yourself for another onslaught from my nocturnal appetites when we get back.”

His chuckle followed her out of the room.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin transported them to a village far to the south, in the midst of what appeared to be market day.  The villagers shrank away from them in fear, some running to shut themselves in their cottages, and Rumple _tsked_ under his breath until two of the white-haired elders summoned up enough courage to approach him.  Small children seemed to have no such issues, and he found himself staring down at a toddler with his thumb in his mouth, his other hand tugging on one of the strings lacing the sides of Rumple’s pants.  After a moment, Belle picked him up, bouncing him in her arms, and the child closed his eyes and began dozing with his head on her shoulder.  It made a pretty picture.

“Well?” he snapped at the elders.  “Are you going to tell me why I’ve been dragged from a warm castle to stand in this square and have people hide in their houses?”

“Forgive us, Dark One,” said one of the elders humbly.  “It’s the Crystal Caves, you see.  We get our water from the spring that flows inside.”

“And?” said Rumple impatiently.  “Has it dried up or something?  Hard to believe with all the melt-water that must be flowing.”

“No no, it hasn’t dried up,” said the man hastily.  “It’s - there have been terrible sounds coming from the caves.  Shrieking and roaring.  It sounds like a - a bunch of demons has been raised in there!  We daren’t go near!”

“Hmm.”  Rumple tapped his fingers together.  “So you want me to deal with whatever might be in there?  And what might you offer me in return?”

The elders looked at one another nervously.

“Well, we have a little gold…” began one, but Rumple shook his head.

“I make gold,” he said dismissively.  “I have no need of more.”

“This is a small village,” added the other elder, almost wringing his hands.  “We farm sheep and make cheese and wine.  We have nothing else to offer, Dark One.”

“Cheese and wine.”  Rumple shared a glance with Belle, who smiled and sent him the slightest nod.  “Very well.  Some of your best cheese and a dozen bottles of wine.  What say you?”

The elders looked surprised, and then relieved.

“Yes, yes,” said the first, almost falling over himself in his rush to agree.  “This is more than fair!  We accept.”

“I never ask for something that the other party cannot afford to give,” said Rumple dryly.  “I have no idea why anyone expects otherwise.  The deal is struck.  You may discuss payment with the Lady Belle whilst I am in the caves.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said Belle flatly.

Rumple turned to face her.  She had put down the child and was staring at him with her chin raised.  He knew that look.

“I’m going with you,” she announced.

“And if it _is_ a legion of newly-raised demons, what then?” he asked snidely.  “I half-expect you to say you’d tuck them in and read them a bedtime story.”

Belle put her hands on her hips.

“And if you think I wouldn’t, you don’t know me at all,” she said, but there was amusement in her eyes.  “Perhaps they’re simply misunderstood, and need a kind word and a gentle touch.”

He was aware that she was no longer talking about a potential legion of demons, and as a ridiculously besotted grin was threatening to spread across his face, he decided to agree to her suggestion.

“Oh, very well!” he snapped, waving a hand.  “Perhaps I can feed you to them as a distraction.”

Belle giggled, her eyes sparkling, and the village elders exchanged confused looks.  Clearly word of their relationship had not spread to the villages yet.  He stalked off towards the caves, Belle trotting to catch up and linking her fingers through his.

“What do you think it is?” she asked, as they passed out of sight of the stone cottages at the edge of the village and started up the mountain path.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “But I highly doubt that someone has been summoning demons, unless there is a witch amongst the villagers who can hide their magic from me.”

“Does that ever happen?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“There are certain artefacts that can suppress magical power, yes,” he said.  “Not enough to completely disguise ability, though.  At least I never came across one.”

“I wonder what it can be, then,” she said thoughtfully.  “An animal, perhaps?”

Rumple snorted.

“Probably a cat in heat who’s found a place in the caves that creates echoes,” he grumbled.  “In which case this is a waste of everyone’s time.”

“We get cheese and wine,” she reminded him.  “That has to be worth something.”

“And I suppose I got to take you out in the fresh air,” he conceded.  “Putting colour in those beautiful cheeks.”

Belle blushed with pleasure.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Rumplestiltskin,” she said primly, and he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m counting on that.”

They rounded a large gorse bush, spying the entrance to the caves ahead.  As if on cue, a terrible sound floated out to them.  It was a cross between a growl and a shriek, and set Rumple’s teeth on edge.  It sounded familiar, though, and he smiled to himself.

“I think we’re safe,” he said.  “Stay close.”

He stepped into the cave entrance, conjuring a ball of fire to light their way as they took a passage down into the darkness.  Belle’s hand was warm in his, and the fireball made shadows dance and flicker on the rock walls.  As they headed further into the mountain, the crystals that gave the caves their name started to appear, helping to spread the firelight.  The sound of trickling water announced the presence of the villagers’ spring, where the tunnel opened out into the first of the caves.

The walls of the cave were thick with crystals, gleaming red and orange with the firelight, and Belle sucked in a shocked breath.  A large dragon was curled on a mound of crystals, an iron spear piercing her side.  She was clearly dead, and when Rumple glanced at Belle, he saw tears in her eyes.

“Poor thing,” she said.  “Who could do this?”

“No peasant threw that spear,” he said.  “I suspect one of the King’s knights.  No doubt seeking a name for himself as a dragonslayer.”

“I thought dragons were hard to kill,” she said.

“Magic-infused spear, perhaps,” he suggested.  “Or they simply got lucky.  Dragons are certainly hard to kill, but not impossible.”

The shrieking, growling noise came again, magnified in the cave, and Rumple took Belle’s hand, drawing her to the side around the dragon’s body.  The source of the noises soon became apparent, as the remnants of dragon eggshell crunched under their feet.  A baby dragon, perhaps twelve inches long, its scales gleaming red and tinted with gold, was scratching at its mother’s lifeless body.  Its stubby tail twitched on the ground, scattering lumps of crystal, and as Rumple watched it let out another shriek of distress.

“There now, little one,” said Belle, in a soft, warm voice.

The baby dragon looked around, ears twitching rapidly, snout lifted to sniff the air.  Belle had dropped down to sit on her heels, and after a moment Rumple did the same.

“Come here,” said Belle, still in that same soft voice.  “Who’s a beautiful little dragon, then?  We won’t hurt you.”

The little dragon looked them over, its eyes fixing on Rumple’s dragon-hide coat.  It let out a grating squeal and scampered over, crawling up his arm to sit on his shoulder.  Belle giggled.

“I think it’s adopted you,” she said.  “Can we keep it?”

“We can’t take a dragon back to the Dark Castle,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because they don’t stay this size forever,” he said dryly, and Belle waved a hand.

“Oh, I’m sure you could work something out,” she said impatiently.  “We can’t leave it here to die, and I don’t see a lot of people taking in orphaned dragons.”

“Except us, apparently.”

“Please, Rumple?”

She stared at him imploringly, and he sighed.

“I’m taking this thing home, aren’t I?” he said resignedly, and Belle beamed at him and kissed his cheek.

“Is it male or female?” she asked excitedly.

He picked up the dragon, turning it briefly onto its back.

“Female,” he said, setting her back on his shoulder.  “Why don’t you name her?”

The little dragon had settled against his neck, and he scratched her under the chin, making her let out a chirping noise.  Belle scratched her head, fingers rubbing at her ears, and the dragon crooned contentedly.

“Her scales are so pretty,” she said.  “Like - glowing coals.  I want to call her Ember.”

The dragon snorted, a ring of smoke drifting up from her snout, and Rumple grinned.

“I think she approves,” he said.  “Ember it is.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thespinningmeanie asked:
> 
> Sparks: Ember crawled into their bed while Rumple sates Belle’s nocturnal appetites *snickers*

When Rumple and Belle emerged from the cave and returned to the village, the elders were surprised and relieved to find that the source of the noise had been found and was not a legion of demons, but a baby dragon.  They were even more relieved that the Dark One was taking the dragon with him, and pressed a basket of cheese and bread and wine on Belle with profuse thanks.

“They seem pleased that we answered the call,” said Belle, as they trudged away from the village.  Rumple clicked his tongue.

“I think they’re just as pleased to see the back of us,” he remarked.  “Not that I mind that.”

Ember had curled against his neck and fallen asleep, and Belle reached up to stroke her head gently.

“Where are we going to put her?” she asked.  “She needs food and - and warmth.”

“She can stay in the kitchens,” said Rumple.  “There’s a fire there, and I can get something for her to eat.”

“She needs company, too,” said Belle reprovingly.  “Why don’t we let her roam the castle? There’s a big fire in the Great Hall, she can curl up in front of that.”

“Like a scaly, flying dog,” he remarked.  “Which occasionally sets fire to the tapestries.”

“Rumple…”

“Oh, very well!” he sighed.  “But she’s not coming in our bedroom.”

* * *

After some research in the library, and discussion with Rumple, Belle had decided to give Ember the sort of bed that dragons seemed to favour, which meant that a pile of rocks had to be brought in from outside and piled in a basket by the fire.  Rumple cast a spell over the basket first, so that it would be fireproof, and when the stones were piled into it, he picked Ember up from where she was nestled against his neck, in order to introduce her to her new sleeping quarters. She snatched at his coat with her claws, making sounds of protest, but once he placed her on the pile of rocks, warmed by the heat of the fire, she soon settled down, curling up and resting her head on her claws.

“Give her your coat,” whispered Belle, and he took a step back, eyes widening.

“My coat?”

“Yes.”  Belle sounded impatient.  “That’s what attracted her to you in the first place.  I think she recognised it was dragon-hide. Just put it in her crib.”

“Her _crib_?”  He put his hands on his hips.  “She’s not a baby, she’s a dragon!”

“Oh, of course she’s a baby!” said Belle, waving a hand.  “Dragons are highly intelligent, you know that. Come on, get your clothes off.”

“This is not how I imagined that line being used,” he grumbled, shrugging off his coat, and she giggled, eyes sparkling as she sent him a look that was only a little reproving.

He handed over the coat, recalling that he did at least have others in his wardrobe.  Belle spread it on one side of the basket of rocks, and after a moment Ember lifted her snout to sniff the air before crawling over to lie on the dragon-hide coat, her back legs and stubby tail still stretched across the rocks.

“I think she’ll be fine here,” said Belle, who was squatting by the basket with her hands on her knees.  “We can show her around the castle when she gets a little bigger, let her know it’s her home.”

“And when she gets a _lot_ bigger, what then?” he asked, and Belle pouted, straightening up and stepping close to him.

“Come on, I know you like her,” she teased, running her hands up his chest.  “I’m sure you can think of some way to keep her here without enchanting her to stay this size or letting her wreck the bedrooms.”

“I could clear out one of the towers in the East Wing, I suppose,” he conceded.  “Nothing says ‘sod off, we’re not dealing today’ better than a fire-breathing dragon.”

“Hmm.”  Belle patted his chest, beaming up at him.  “And when she gets older and can _actually_ breathe fire, maybe you can take her on deals?”

“It might make the deal-making easier,” he said, with a grin.  “Or alternatively she could sneeze and set someone’s hair on fire and ruin the whole thing.”

“Rumple!”  She giggled, smacking his chest.  “Stop pretending she’s not adorable!”

“Hmm.”  He raised his eyes to the ceiling, his hands on her waist.  “You really do have a thing for monsters, don’t you?”

“Certainly not,” she said, raising her chin.  “I have a thing for wonderful, intelligent creatures in need of love and understanding.”

“Of which there are now two of us for you to love,” he said, trying not to smile.  “How will you divide your time?”

Her smile became wicked.

“Take me upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

* * *

Ever since Arendelle, Belle had not spent a single night apart from Rumple.  He had moved her into his room, which was now _their_ room, and although he rarely slept, they still spent much of every night in the bed.  They were still exploring, still getting to know one another, but being intimate with him was always special, and always incredible.  She moaned as he kissed his way back up her body, his lips trailing over her breasts, his hands squeezing her as he sucked at her nipples.  His body slid against hers, and she gasped as she felt him, hard against her wet heat.

“Yes, my love!” she whispered.  “Yes, I want you!”

He reached between them, guiding himself into her, and Belle moaned as she arched upwards, her fingers digging into the groove of his spine.  She could smell wood smoke and burning pine boughs from the crackling fire, and melting wax from the lit candles on the mantelpiece. She could smell _him_ , musk and the faint spicy scent of his magic, cloves and black pepper and cinnamon.  He drew his tongue up her throat, sinking into her, and she pulled up her knees with a moan of pleasure as he pushed deep.

“Gods, that’s amazing!” she whispered.

Belle let her fingers stroke through his hair.  There was a creak from the bedroom door, but it barely registered.  He was groaning and thrusting, long, slow strokes that made her see stars, and she was clinging to him, perspiration forming between her breasts, on her belly, and where their bodies joined, their skin slippery with it.

“You feel incredible!” he breathed, and pushed up on his elbows, stroking his hands over her face.

She raised her head a little to kiss him, her brain recognising that there was a noise in the room.  A noise that shouldn’t be there. A rattling of claws against wooden floorboards. There was a tugging at the bedclothes, and a tiny, grating shriek, and suddenly Rumple rose up on the heels of his hands with a growl as Ember clawed her way up his back to sit on his shoulder.

“What the everloving _fuck_?” he snarled, and Belle burst into helpless giggles.

Ember nuzzled his cheek with her snout, letting out a crooning noise, and he growled under his breath.

“She’s only a baby,” said Belle, reaching up to stroke Ember’s head.  The little dragon butted her snout against her fingers. “She doesn’t understand that Mama and Papa need to be alone sometimes.”

“Often,” he corrected, turning his head to face Ember, who regarded him soberly with large amber eyes.  “ _Nightly_ , in fact.  A time when baby dragons should be sleeping on the coats they stole.”

Ember looked at him for a moment, then let out a chirruping sound and butted her snout against his nose.  He sighed, and lifted a hand to scratch her head.

“Maybe you should think about a lock for the door?” said Belle, with a grin, and he sighed again.

“Our peace is shattered, isn’t it?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first ficlet I wrote on tumblr containing Ember, and I've built this verse of ficlets around it. It's been edited and added to in order to fit with the first two chapters.

Belle stumbled, giggling and clutching at Rumplestiltskin's chest as the smoke of his magic cleared, and they held onto one another for a moment, breathing hard.  Disappearing from one place and appearing in another was something he was used to after three centuries of being overly dramatic with those he dealt with, but it made her a little dizzy.  Her cheeks were adorably flushed, and she looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

"I still prefer taking the carriage," she said.

"Time was of the essence, I think," he said.  "I wasn't expecting us to be so long."

"No," she sighed, sliding her hands up his chest.  "It's good to be home."

She rose up on her toes to kiss him, and he pulled her close, his mouth opening for her as he tasted her.  Belle murmured happily, fingers sinking into his hair, and he pressed a final kiss to her before drawing back a little.

"Enough of that," he said gently.  "Or have you forgotten there's a reason I used magic to get us home so quickly?"

"There could have been more than one reason," she said playfully.  Her fingers were stroking his scalp, making his skin tingle.  "I think we should explore the other reason after dinner, what do you think?"

He kissed her again, more urgently, and she giggled into his mouth before pulling back.

"Dinner  _first_ ," she said firmly.  "I presume you sent the food we bought to the kitchens?"

"Cheese and meat in the cold store," he confirmed.  "Cakes in the pantry.  Brandy in the library."

"Good."  She kissed him on the nose.  "I'd better get downstairs.  See if the cause of our swift return missed us at all."

Rumplestiltskin watched her go, well aware that he was grinning like an idiot, and turned to the bulging bags that they had brought back from the market.  He stowed the potion ingredients in the wooden drawers of the cabinet, tossing the spools of gold that they hadn’t spent back onto the pile by his spinning wheel.  A long day at the market, but they had purchased everything he needed.  They had then travelled to a high mountain for some rare ingredients he knew the townsfolk wouldn’t have, and he now possessed a number of tiny purple-flowered plants, frozen in ice that he was maintaining with magic.  They were useful for healing potions, and he had need of those if Belle ever caught a cold.

He made his way down to the library, expecting to find Belle with her nose in a book.  It was late; they had been gone far longer than they had planned, and he wondered if she was as hungry as he.

“Don’t you love me?”

Belle’s wheedling voice made Rumplestiltskin smirk.  He entered the library, warmth from the crackling fire washing over him.  Belle was crouched on the rug, the leather breeches she wore stretched over her delightful rear end, and in front of the fire with its back to her, doing an excellent job of pretending she didn’t exist, was Ember.  The gold sheen on her red scales shimmered in the firelight, rippling like flame as she shifted position slightly.  At four months old, she was perhaps three feet long, but still very much a baby, her tail short and stubby and yet to grow long and tapered like her mother’s had been.  Her wings were folded against her back, her head bowed a little, clawed feet sticking out in front of her.

“Ember, don’t sulk, darling,” said Belle gently. “You know Papa and I have to go away sometimes, and we can’t always take you with us.  The townsfolk aren’t comfortable with dragons around.  Even adorable little ones like you.”

The little dragon shifted, her wings twitching irritably.  Belle started to creep around to the front of her, and Ember shuffled on her rear, turning to keep Belle facing her back, stubby tail twitching on the floor.  Belle sighed and stopped, hands on her knees.

“Are you going to ignore me all night?” she asked.  “What will Papa say, hmm?”

There was a huffing noise, and a perfect ring of blue smoke floated upwards.  Rumple imagined that it was the dragon equivalent of giving the finger.

“It looks as though she needs to sleep,” he said loudly, and Belle glanced around, smiling as she saw him.  “I imagine she’s far too tired to eat any of the venison we brought back.”

Ember’s head twitched, ears pricking up, and he bit back a grin.

“I should probably go and throw it away before it goes bad,” he added.

“Perhaps that would be best,” agreed Belle gravely, pushing to her feet.  “I’ll help.  We can throw it out for the wolves, I’m sure they’d like it.”

She smirked at him, taking his arm as he turned on his heel, and he led her from the room.  They had not taken two steps from the door when there was a harsh cry from the hearth, and a rattling of claws on the wooden floor.  Ember launched herself at his ankles, climbing up his leather pants and the dragon-hide coat he wore until she reached his shoulder.

“Well,” he said, amused.  “I see you’re hungry after all, young lady.”

She chirruped something, butting her head against his, and Belle scratched her jaw and down her neck.  The dragon crooned a little, and nipped affectionately at Rumple’s throat, making him wince as Belle giggled.

“You sure you wouldn’t have preferred a nice kitten?” he said dryly, and Belle shot him a wry look.

“How could you ask me that?” she said.  “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s getting heavy,” he grumbled.  “I’m not carrying her everywhere.  She can bloody well learn to fly.”

“In that case she needs feeding up, don’t you, darling?” said Belle.  “Venison for all of us, I think.”

She trotted off downstairs, and Rumple watched her go with what he knew was a stupidly besotted expression on his face.  He glanced at the dragon perched on his shoulder.

“We’re lucky to have your mother,” he said.  “Otherwise we’d both starve, I’m sure.”

Ember let out a harsh little shriek, rubbing her nose against his face, and he scratched her behind the ears.

"Come along, then," he said, and followed Belle down the spiral staircase, Ember's claws digging into his coat.

He supposed it was fortunate that he wore leather pants and dragon hide coats so frequently; her claws were sharp, and she didn't yet understand that the skin of her adoptive parents was far more fragile than that of a dragon.  One morning, when he had been wearing nothing but one of his shirts, he had left Belle in bed to fetch some breakfast, and Ember had leapt eagerly at his bare legs, clawing her way up to her usual perch on his shoulder.  The resulting shrieks had woken Belle, and she had tried to explain to Ember, in gentle tones he couldn't quite summon, that Papa needed to be wearing his outer skin before she could climb up him.  Ember had blinked with large amber eyes, but she hadn't tried to climb up his naked legs since. 

Unsurprisingly, there were relatively few books on the care and feeding of dragons, but he had managed to root out some, and Belle had read them from cover to cover, disregarding contradictory advice and anything that suggested that the dragon should be chained or physically punished until it learned to obey.  Ember had the run of the Dark Castle, and from the knowledge they had gleaned, she would be flying at around ten months, if her wings grew to a sufficient size.  He had already cleared the top of one of the towers for her to call home when she got too big to sit in the library with them.  He suspected Belle would miss petting her when that happened; she had treated Ember as gently and lovingly as if the little dragon was her own child.

It occurred to him that Belle would make an excellent mother, and the thought gave him a warm, contented feeling deep in his heart.  He was still focused on getting to Bae, but there was no reason that the family to which his son would return couldn't be a little bigger.  Perhaps this was a discussion to be had after dinner.


End file.
